“Gateway of the Goddess”

The Mythica is always beneath us.  The magic is always waiting to be seen.  What seems like the most simple of tasks can lead us to adventure.

So many things come to me as I make my way down the mountain to get batteries. A great breath of relief through me as I feel the harmony of the Mythica and the movement forward into the realms of publishing and connection. There is a new ambience to the atmosphere, one that feels in residence with the places of abundance and entrepreneurship that I had felt along the skein of my timeline.

There’s a sense of simple victory, of piloting the emerald down through the forests of Tahoe, recognizing that I have come home the mountain, and have completed the quest for which I devoted twenty years of my life.  I have done what I set out to do, creating a portal to publish from the real magical world.  To help the people come to see the sacred within their stories.

It is always an amazement to me to remember that we all see different layers of the world.  That one can live in the mundane or mystical version of their reality, experiencing the shallows or the subtle wonder that lay within us all.  To head into town to the market is a surreal experience, far uncommon to my constant writing atop the high mountain, and a reminder of how far from the Commonwealth I have traveled.

I make my way to the shoreline of the lake. It is early in the season, and so patches of land can still be seen. As I do, I urinate by the trees, intentionally offering my water to the spirit of the Lady of the Lake.

I have come so far. Walked so deep into the territories of the Mythica that the common world feels like a distant shore.  There is the feeling, the very real authentic feeling, that I have traveled deep into the realms of the Mythica, into the hidden landscapes beneath the surface of our stories, and have returned, a traveler, on the ship of synchronicity, to the shores of the commonwealth, ready at last to deliver the gift of the Mythica to the people.

Everything is a divination.  Everything is magic.  The world speaks to us in the language of our life.

As my boots crunch the light snow, I feel like the explorer I am back with proof and promise of the mystical realms I have discovered on my journey to the center of the earth.  Here the land speaks to me in divination, the author of the thin ice and its line of demarcation from the water bear important of my movement to a new realm.

I shift my gaze to the Mythica, opening up the space of divination and Kairos, to feel the substance of my Rainbow Road. As I do, I feel a softening in my heart, I lightness, soothing the intensity of my crown, and root into a rosy glow. a sense comes to me that I am moving into the realms of Yin.  Of coming into deeper resolution of my relationship with the Goddess.

The chroma unfolds for me as I invoke the magic.  To look at the land on this level was to touch the colors that lay beneath our mythologies.  To see the chakras of our story reflected in the world.

Yes, such was merely one way of seeing the energies of one’s path. As my gaze settled into the octaves of the Mythica, I looked at the open field once more. This time the leaves and light snow fall or replaced by something else.  Something that lay in the lands beneath the land.

I look beneath the Layers of the Land, which I was sharing with Robin Liepman (Bloom)

I look back behind me as I leave, casting the invocation to see the landscapes of the Mythica beneath the surface of the world. As I do, I see a gateway in the distance, framed by the same bushes, opening the path to the lake side. It takes the form of a stone arch, reminiscent of the days of Avalon herself.

Such are the real moments of magic.  The kairos of feeling and revelation that define our movements through the realms.

Curious to cast the invocation again I stood by the trees in the yard around the keep for a moment, and let my gaze shot, dripping into the mythosphere of the Tree.  There was what things looked like on the surface of the world, always.  And there was what they looked like in the Mythica, in the lands of legends beneath that surface.

As my gaze shifted the forest moved with it, the trees becoming more fae, sparkling with the dust of a noble winter.

Here again, I felt the presence of something deeply feminine. A sense of nurturing from the lady of the lake herself, the ripples of which held myself, Cassaundra and Danny in the bosom of grace.   As I looked into the distance of the underlands.

I grinned.  It is in this medley of things, in the kairos of the moment that I see the magic on a deeper level, the tendrils of her invocation witnessed across the breadth of time.

Coming back to the house, I look out the window, the dappled sunlight filling the space with gentleness.  Here again I feel the sense of softness, of finally having come back to hearth and home, to the anchoring of the Mythica spell into the Commonwealth.

This was the essence of the spell herself.  The easeful way to show the many layers of the World Tree, to see myself in the story of my living myth and set that model for others.  To be in the Keep was more than simply sanctuary, it was a place of ressurrection, where I had been able to recuperate from the twenty years of the quest and forge the Mythica to ground.

It was a thing of victory, and I basked in it, appreciating my self and my efforts while recognizing the trials to be faced ahead.  The afternoon sun flowed to me through the windows, and my gaze shifted once more into the archetypical landscapes of myth.

In the vision I stood in a viking cottage, the image of a phoenix painted onto the floor.  Stained glass windows were placed all around the cabin and the table of candles sat to my right.  I was another self in this place, a more feminine one, gazing quietly towards the setting sun.

As with all the aspects of the journey through the underlands, I knew it to be a reflection of my current inner world, the realm I was in and was moving towards on my quest.

I look at myself in the mirror on the way back to my writing forge, and see a vision of a younger me surrounded by symbols within a diamond.  A sense of the Fool comes to me, that I am moving on a new adventure, deeper into the worlds within the wood.